Once and Always
by butnotquite
Summary: A sequel to Gone.
1. Chapter 1

**-1-**

_'Nothing brings people together like death,'_ mused Merlin as he viewed the collection of people gathered in his office. Dressed in somber blacks and grays, the five people currently seated, rather uncomfortably, in the room were all doing their very best not to look at each other.

Only one of them looked composed. She was seated the furthest away from everyone and also the only one who was looking straight at the young lawyer.

_'She's grown thinner,'_ he thought as he looked at the woman. _'Much, much too thin.'_

As if she knows what he is thinking, the shadow of a frown crosses her features but it is gone just as quickly as it appears, and once again, her features are serene, composed.

_'Guinevere, what are you hiding?'_ Merlin wants to ask, but instead clears his throat to call the attention of everyone present.

"Right," Merlin says as soon as all eyes were on him. "Thank you all for clearing your schedules to attend this meeting."

He eyed each individual, noting that most of them looked like they would be anywhere but here

Except Guinevere. She looked uninterested. Not exactly bored as there was the ghost of rage in her eyes. Merlin could not blame her as he was the cause of most of her ire. But then he also knew that her rage was divided into the rest of the people in the room.

Morgana.

Agravaine.

Mithian.

And Arthur.

_'Well, probably mostly Arthur,'_ Merlin thought grimly.

Merlin surveyed the room once again, taking in the grimness on each of the five faces in front of him and dreading the discussion that was going to happen after his announcement. He steeled himself against the inevitable and forged on. He wanted the preliminaries over and done with because he had a bigger responsibility after that was done. And he knew that no one in the room would be happy with what he was going to say. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

_'Here goes nothing,'_ he told himself. He looked to his waiting audience and began to speak.

"We are all here to discuss the will left by Uther Pendragon," Merlin began. "My only request is that each of you refrains from asking question until I have finished reading the will and the conditions specified within. And should you be inclined to discuss them in private, I am willing to set aside time for you and your concerns."

He surveyed his audience once again.

"Let's begin."

Merlin tried to keep his nervousness from spiraling out of control. Morgana, Agravaine, and Mithian would be easy enough to control, but Arthur and Guinevere—especially Guinevere—would be another matter altogether.

"Note that I will be reading the will verbatim and, as per the instructions given by Uther Pendragon before his death, will not omit anything included."

Merlin noted that four heads nodded while one remained still, unmoving.

"To Morgana Louise DuBois, daughter of Gorlois and Yvette DuBois, my goddaughter and ward, I leave two townhouses in London and the sum of..."

Merlin mentioned a number that would have left any other person gasping, but Morgana's mouth merely twisted in disdain. She was not pleased with that was left to her. Merlin wanted to shake his head in disbelief, but knew that any reactions from him would have to be done later.

"To Agravaine Clarent, my brother-in-law and uncle to my son, Arthur, I leave the amount of..."

Merlin mentioned another amount that would have funded several small cities.

Agravaine's mouth compressed into a tight line. It seemed like he was unhappy with his part of the Pendragon wealth as well.

"To Mithian Rose Nemeth, daughter of Roder Nemeth, Chief Finance Officer of Pendragon Holdings, Inc., I leave 10 percent of my stocks and shares in said company."

Thankfully, Mithian's expression was passive, but there was no ignoring the spots of color that bloomed on her cheeks. Merlin had very few chances to interact with her, but even he knew that the color on her cheeks was not due to embarrassment or shame.

Merlin took a deep breath and tried to quell the panic that was slowly spreading through him. The last part of Uther's will was going to be unpleasant to disclose and he silently began to wish that he was anywhere else but here.

"To my son and heir, Arthur William Pendragon, I leave all my remaining shares and in Pendragon Holdings, Inc. and the subsequent earnings gleaned from them, the contents of my personal bank accounts, and the land and estate of Camelot."

_'And now, sudden death,'_ Merlin thought and delivered the last condition indicated in the will.

"To Arthur William Pendragon and Guinevere Anne Leodegrance, I leave the land and estate of Tintagel."

Agravaine's loud "WHAT?" was drowned out by Morgana's screech of disbelief.

"You have to be joking!" She said before swiveling to face Arthur.

Mithian went as stiff as a statue, her expression frozen somewhere between a grimace and a sneer.

Merlin saw Arthur slowly turn to look at Guinevere. And as disappointed as Merlin was with the reactions of the other people in the room, it was the look on Guinevere's face that caused him the most grief.

Her tawny skin paled and her eyes widened. Merlin could see that she was trying hide that fact that she was beginning to tremble. In another time and in another place, Merlin would have rushed to her side and taken her to a place where she could calm down. But that time was not now and Merlin knew that she would never allow him near her again.

As the room erupted into chaos, Guinevere calmly stood up and left Merlin's office, three pairs of eyes trained on her as she went.


	2. Chapter 2

**-2-**

Guinevere walked out of the solicitor's office and quietly shut the door behind her. She was aware that several people were staring at her as she left, and frankly she didn't care. She was done thinking about what those people thought of her; of what everyone in that room believed her to be. She had finished with them three years ago. But it was foolish of her to believe that she could ever be free of the curse of having the Pendragons in her life.

The Pendragons and their ilk.

She loathed them. All of them. She hated them and what they did to her.

Guinevere paced up and down the hall outside of Merlin's office. Three years ago, right before she signed the papers that would rid her of her marriage, she had done the same thing. She had walked this same corridor, hoping to rid herself of the nervousness and pain that the next few moments would bring.

She sat down on the wooden bench that was flush along the wall outside the office. She suddenly felt tired. Why do they keep finding new ways to torture her, these Pendragons? Just when she thought she was allowed some measure of happiness, they discover some novel method of making her suffer.

She sat there for a while, staring at the wall opposite her, trying to figure out whom she could call. There was Elyan, of course, but he was busy with work. The machine shop was busier than it had ever been, and while her brother told her that he would drop everything if she needed him, this was a moment where he would not be of any help.

_'Annis, then?'_ Guinevere asked herself.

No. Well, at least not yet.

She was surprised when the door to Merlin's office suddenly opened. Morgana was the first to come out and she stood in front of Guinevere. The other woman was so mad that her anger practically radiated from her in waves.

"You," Morgana said the word like it was an invective. "You have been a thorn in my side ever since Arthur met you..."

"Careful, Morgana," Merlin's lazy tone preceded him and soon he was standing beside the raven-haired woman. "Or I might be inclined to think that you're threatening Guinevere."

He fixed a steely stare at her.

"And that's the last thing you want to happen."

Morgana turned to Merlin and opened her mouth, presumably to hurl another curse word at the solicitor.

"I think you'd better leave," Merlin stated calmly. "Before you say something you'll truly regret."

Morgana stood her ground.

"Leave, Morgana," Merlin said, more forcefully this time. "I will see you tomorrow morning."

Thankfully, Morgana left without another word. But not before turning hate-filled eyes towards Guinevere. There was an unspoken threat in them, and had Guinevere not developed a thicker skin after her divorce, she would have flinched at the look. Instead she straightened, squared her shoulders and stared right back at Morgana.

_'Do your worst,'_ she thought. _'I will fight back this time.'_

Morgana's eyes widened slightly. Clearly, she did not expect Guinevere's quiet retaliation. She turned on her heel and left the building, all the while whispering furiously with Agravaine who had followed her soon after she emerged from Merlin's office.

"Guinevere," Merlin's voice was gentle as he tried to catch her attention. "I think you'd better come in. There are...things that I need to discuss with you and Arthur."

"Don't you always?" She replied, her voice clipped and icy.

She stood up and walked into the office—only to see Mithian and Arthur talking silently in one corner. Their heads were close together and it seemed like they were trying very hard not to touch one another.

"Arthur," Merlin called out to his friend and Arthur's head whipped around to look at him. Guinevere knew that he caught sight of her too, and she returned his slightly panicked look with a passive expression.

She was done with Arthur Pendragon, and she would do whatever it took to permanently rid him from her life.

"We need to discuss the details of your father's will."

Merlin's voice cut through the tension in the room. Mithian had remained unmoving, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Arthur's hands were shoved into his trouser pockets and it was evident that he held them in fists.

Guinevere stood apart from all of them; her face was passive and her hands were clasped loosley in front of her. She looked at Arthur before moving her eyes over to where Mithian was standing. Both people flinched under her gaze and averted their eyes.

"We can do this some other time, Merlin," Guinevere said. "When it's more convenient for everybody."

And for the second time that day, Guinevere turned on her heel and left her one-time friend's office. She didn't spare another glance at the three others who were left staring after her.

_'Some other time,'_ Guinevere thought, repeating the words in her head. _'Or perhaps never.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**-3-**

"Was that necessary, Merlin?" Mithian's cold voice broke through the silence that filled the room.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Merlin replied, feigning innocence. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but he was damned if he would let her get the upper hand.

She gave him a look and said, "I never pegged you to be the type to play games."

"And I never thought you would be one who played the fool," he replied just as cooly.

Merlin looked at Arthur.

"You need to talk to Guinevere," he stated plainly.

"Isn't that your job?" Mithian asked Merlin, her left eyebrow raised in disbelief. "You're the solicitor."

"I am the _executor_ of Uther's will," he clarified; speaking slowly to make her understand. "I only enforce what is stated in the will."

He spoke to Arthur once again.

"Guinevere doesn't want Tintagel," he told the man. "But you do. It is your responsibility to make sure she understands that she needs to be present when the conditions are read."

"What makes you think I'm going to do anything to convince Guinevere to change her mind?"

Arthur's voice was calm, but Merlin had known him long enough to know that the more unaffected he looked, the angier he was.

_'The puzzle that is Arthur Pendragon,'_ he thought ruefully.

"Because this is Tintagel we are talking about," was Merlin's simple reply. "Not some tin shack out in the middle of nowhere."

Ygraine Pendragon's family's estate was old, sitting on several rolling acres of land, steeped in history and, thus, very valuable. But more than its monetary worth, it was also Arthur's mother's ancestral home. Tintagel was the seat of the Clarents; it had been passed on from eldest child to eldest child for centuries. It should have been passed on to Arthur upon Ygraine's death, but certain situations had compelled Uther to take precautions.

Those precautions were complicating the enforcement of the late Pendragon's will. And it was making Merlin's life a living hell.

"You can either speak to your ex-wife and the _both_ of you can come to an agreement about Tintagel, or," Merlin paused for effect. "You can kiss your mother's inheritance goodbye."

A wry smile twisted Merlin's lips.

"It's as simple as that."

Arthur's nostrils flared in anger while Mithian's hands fisted at her sides.

"What does Guinevere have to do with Tintagel?" Mithian's voice turned icier and it was clear that she did not find any of this amusing.

"That will be between Guinevere, Arthur, and I," Merlin replied cooly. "Sorry, Mithian."

But Merlin wasn't sorry.

Mithian Nemeth was nice enough woman. She was accomplished, beautiful, and a force to be reckoned with—even without the backing of her father and the influence of her last name—but, from the beginning something about her rankled Merlin. It could be that she swooped in on Arthur even before the divorce was final, or that she tried to ingratiate herself into Merlin's life even when he made it plain that he was smarting over the loss of Guinevere's friendship, there was something about her that unnerved him.

Three years later, those feelings had yet to change.

Mithian turned to whisper something to Arthur who nodded and bussed her cheek as she said goodbye.

"Merlin," she said in farewell as she walked to the door.

Arthur turned angry eyes toward the solicitor as soon as Mithian exited the office.

"What are the conditions of the will, Merlin?"

Arthur's voice was dead calm but his eyes flashed with rage.

"Bring Guinevere and you will know," Merlin said smoothly. "Together."

He casually tossed out the word and saw how Arthur's brows knit together at the connotation.

"Guinevere and I are not getting back together, Merlin."

"If she had her way, then yes," Merlin pushed at the buttons that Arthur had kept hidden away for three years. "But I know that things would be different if you had your way."

"You are skating on thin ice," Arthur bit out the words.

"Really?" Merlin merely raised his brows in a disaffected manner. "And here I thought I was just being honest."

Both men stared at each other for a while, each sizing up the other. Arthur was used to intimidating lesser men with his stare and his money, but Merlin knew that Arthur would be an idiot to pull rank on him.

"You never stopped loving her," Merlin said plainly. "The divorce nearly killed you, Arthur. I was there to pick up after you every night for a year, remember?"

Arthur's nostrils flared in rage, but Merlin was unrelenting in his reminder.

"You weren't exactly secretive when you hired those people to keep track of her every move, were you?"

Merlin's tone was light, but the intent to do harm was evident in every word.

"And even with the best people in the business at your disposal, she still disappeared from your radar."

Merlin dropped his head as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his amusement.

"Tell me, Arthur," he began after a moment spent trying to control his mirth. "How does it feel to be the one left out?"

A growl actually sounded from Arthur.

"I mean, that must have done some harm to your ego."

Arthur took out his hands from his pockets and Merlin saw how they fisted at his sides.

"And by Guinevere, of all people."

"That's enough!" Arthur's voice exploded as his temper hit the roof. "You, of all people, should know..."

"That it was all your fault?" Merlin prodded, still not letting up. "I know that perfectly. I lost a best friend because of you, remember?"

Arthur practically deflated in front of him. Three years was not enough to rid him of his pain and guilt over losing the woman who meant more to him than life itself. And while he had kept his feelings to himself, all it took was some subtle reminder of the past and he was left crumbling.

Spending time with her must've been slow torture for Arthur, but Merlin didn't care. It was time for Arthur Pendragon to receive the same kind of hurt he doled out on a regular basis. It was his turn to be hit hard—and right where he was most vulnerable.

Merlin moved away from his once-friend and walked to stand behind his desk. He straightened some files before speaking once again.

"You have to convince Guinevere to come back to this office tomorrow," Merlin looked at the small appointment calendar on his desk. "I've set aside my entire afternoon for the both of you. Be here at two and we will all go through the rest of your father's will."

Merlin looked at his watch.

"She will need to bring along her legal counsel, of course. And that will either be Annis Caerleon or Nimueh Lakewood—not the easiest people to get along with, but they'll be fair."

Merlin looked up to see Arthur staring at him.

"Did I say something you didn't understand?"

Arthur rubbed a hand along his jaw and Merlin could suddenly see the tiredness in the other man's shoulders.

_Good._

"Was it necessary to bring...Guinevere here today?"

He sounded weary...broken.

"Yes," Merlin replied. "She needed to know what she is going to be involved in; she doesn't deserve to be blindsided by this information."

_'Any more than she already has,'_ added Merlin silently.

"And...I'm the best person to do this?"

A frisson of uncertainty was heard in Arthur's voice.

"Yes," Merlin replied. "After all, this is about you and her."

Arthur's nervous gulp was difficult to miss and Merlin quelled the impulse to laugh.

"If you need information on where she's living..."

"I know where she lives," Arthur cut in. "I know where to find her."

_'I just bet you do.'_

"Excellent," Merlin closed his appointment book and stood with his hands in his trouser pockets. "I'll see both of you tomorrow, then."

Arthur nodded and then he walked out the door and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**4-**

Arthur walked into the hall in somewhat of a daze. He had just lost his father; while the two of them had never been particularly close, especially after the dissolution of his marriage, Uther had been the only parent he ever knew.

_'A bastard right down to the end,'_ Arthur's mouth twisted as the thought sprung into his head.

He had no illusions about Uther's magnanimity and he was well aware of the fact that there was no love lost between his father and wife—_'ex-wife,' _Arthur corrected himself—but it was strange that Guinevere was included in Uther's will. Especially in the clause concerning Tintagel, the birthright of the woman Uther loved over and above everyone else—even his own son.

What did his mother's estate have to do with him and Guinevere? And why did Uther think to include her in the will when he could have excluded her completely?

Arthur walked out of the building and headed straight to the sleek town car that he had come to prefer when driving to business meetings. It indicated a sense of power; of being better than the other men of influence he dealt with on a daily basis. In other words, the car was intimidating and Arthur liked that,

He gave directions to the uniformed chauffeur as soon as he boarded the back seat. A quick nod and soon he was on his way. To meet Guinevere.

Arthur looked out the window, not paying attention to the familiar urban landscape as his thoughts were occupied with what just might happen if spent time with her again.

Seeing Guinevere in Merlin's office was a surprise. She had arrived last and took a seat in the back of the room; her eyes trained forward, not looking at any of the people who were openly staring at her. Ignoring him when all he wanted to do was hold her close to him and never let her go,

She looked delicate, almost frail. There was a tiredness in her eyes that he had never seen before; and while she sat ramrod straight, Arthur could see the weariness in her posture—as if she were carrying the universe on her shoulders.

"We're here, Mr. Pendragon," the chauffeur's voice broke through Arthur's reverie. "Here" was a stately building in one of the more fashionable districts in the city. A polished plaque next to the door announced that it housed the law office of Annis Caerleon. Guinevere's attorney.

"Thank you, Robert," Arthur stepped out of the vehicle as the driver opened his door. "Would you mind waiting out here?"

"Of course not, sir," was Robert's smooth reply.

Arthur bit back a smirk. It wasn't as if Robert had a choice, but he figured that it would be nice to humor his employee.

He nodded at the chauffeur.

"This won't take long."

Arthur walked up the steps and pressed the button of the bell that would announce his presence. He didn't have to wait long; the door was opened by a woman with dark hair that looked like it was gathered into a low ponytail. Fair of complexion and dark of eye, she looked at him passively before bidding him to enter.

"Good morning," Arthur began. "I'm looking for Annis Carleon..."

"She isn't here, Mr. Pendragon," the woman said, her eyes squarely meeting his gaze. "But please come in."

The woman stepped aside to let Arthur walk inside the Caerleon Law Office.

"I will come back another time then," Arthur was starting to get peeved. Who was this woman?

"Ms. Caerleon told me that you might make an appearance today," the woman said as she walked further into the building. "If that settles your nerves, please follow me."

Arthur's brow furrowed but he went the way the woman directed. She stopped outside an office—her office, Arthur presumed. Inside was a large desk and on it was a small plaque—rather old-fashioned, but it somehow fit the office. Written on the plaque was the name Nimueh Lakewood, under it was her title: Attorney-at-Law.

"Ms. Lakewood," Arthur greeted the woman who, for some reason, failed to introduce herself. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid we haven't been introduced."

Atty. Lakewood walked to her side of the desk and sat down. She gestured for Arthur to take the seat opposite her.

"Yes," her tone was dismissive, as if introductions were a bother. "I was informed by Mr. Emrys to expect you today and that it would have something to do with Ms. Guinevere Leodegrance and Tintagel."

It wasn't a question, but Arthur nodded.

"Yes," he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, looking over them at the woman across the table. "I was hoping to speak with Annis Caerleon regarding that."

"No need," Nimueh Lakewood fixed calm eyes upon him. "Atty. Caerleon is currently indisposed; I will be representing Ms. Leodegrance."

"Not to be rude," Arthur cut in. "But Annis is Guinevere's attorney..."

"Not to cut you off," Nimueh's voice was just as cold as Arthur's. "But I have been with Atty. Caerleon ever since she started representing Ms. Leodegrance. I assure you, Mr. Pendragon, that I am extremely well-versed in the nuances of Ms. Leodegrance's legal affairs."

A tense silence hung between the two people in the office. Arthur didn't know what to make of this woman who seemed to be without an empathetic ear as far as he was concerned. They continued to look at each other until the staring contest was broken by someone opening the door.

"Nimueh?" A voice called out from right outside the office. "I'm sorry it took a while for me to arrive..."

The door opened and the person speaking stopped just at the threshold.

"Arthur," Guinvere's eyes locked onto her ex-husband's and whatever warmth was there was now extinguished,

Arthur noted that she allowed herself to look at him or just a beat before meeting the eyes of the woman who was handling her legal affairs.

"This isn't necessary," she began.

"Nonsense," Nimueh Lakewood stood up to open the door, signaling Guinevere to walk into the office. "The sooner this is over with, the better off we'll all be."

She gestured to the other chair in front of her desk.

"Take a seat, Guinevere," a smile formed on Nimueh's lips and there was no mistaking the thawing of her manner.

_'She always has that effect on people,'_ Arthur mused. Guinevere drew people in with her nature. The way she commanded attention was not only effortless, it was also graceful, quiet, and elegant.

It was one of the things Arthur loved so much about her. Guinevere was shy, almost retreating when they first met, but instead of driving him away, her manner intrigued him. She had resisted him—oh, did she try—but he persisted and eventually won her over. And when she agreed to marry him, it was the happiest day of his life.

But the Guinevere in the room with him now wasn't the smiling, carefree woman who fell in love with him all those years ago. There was a sadness—no, a hollowness in her eyes that ate at him. And beyond the tough demeanor she sported, there was an emptiness that seemed to be without end.

The Guinevere in front of him was a shell of the woman he left three years ago. Arthur's chest constricted until it became almost impossible to breathe.

It wasn't because she wouldn't look at him or that she flatly refused to acknowledge his presence. It was because he knew that he did this to her. As painful as the divorce was for him and as hard as he tried to kill the pain with women, alcohol, and whatever dulling agent was within easy reach, looking at Guinevere now, he knew that the agony she went through was infinitely worse.

What he put her through destroyed her. _He_ destroyed her.


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

To say that Guinevere was uncomfortable was an understatement. It was one thing to be in the same room with Arthur with six other people, it was another matter altogether to be with him in a much more intimate space.

Over the course of her divorce and the dark times following it, Annis and Nimueh had been more than her legal representatives, they had been her friends when no one else would come near her. Elyan was a solid support, of course, but she simply couldn't confide in her brother with the same intimacy as she could with Annis and Nimueh.

She could be honest with them and not expect rancor or judgment. She knew that they would remain calm and patient-things she desperately needed when her entire world was falling apart.

There had been another ally, but she pushed all thought of him away and concentrated on the task at hand: to familiarize herself with the conditions of the late Uther Pendragon's will.

She was surprised when she received a legal summons to appear at Merlin's office. The letter had not said much, only the date, time, place, and matter to be discussed. It was puzzling because she had specifically asked Annis and Nimueh to make sure that she would be free of any legal entanglements concerning the Pendragons as soon as the divorce was finalized.

She didn't count on this curve ball.

_'Leave it to that bastard to always want the last word,'_ the thought filled Guinevere's head and her mouth twisted in anger.

She loathed Uther Pendragon. She had tried to be cordial to the man ever since she got involved with Arthur, but there was no changing his prejudice. He thought she was common trash, unfit to be associated with their social pedigree. Guinevere had almost expected him to disinherit Arthur when they announced their engagement. And it had torn her apart to see how despondent Arthur was when the elder Pendragon made it plain that he wanted no participation in their wedding.

Guinevere shook her head free of the memories of the past and took the other seat in front of Nimueh's desk. A rather thick manila folder sat on the dark surface of the table that separated them and it didn't take much imagination to understand that what it contained could change her life again.

_'Just let me be, Uther,'_ she thought. _'I left and you won. What other pain can you possibly put me through?'_

Nimueh sat down and clasped her hands in on the desk in front of her.

"No one in this room wants to be here to discuss this matter," she said plainly. "That much is perfectly clear."

She looked at Arthur.

"Mr. Pendragon, one of the stipulations you agreed to during the divorce proceedings was you were not to come in contact with Ms. Leodegrance after the papers were signed and the process finalized."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak only to be quelled by Nimueh putting a hand up to stop him.

"However, we failed to take into consideration that Ms. Leodegrance didn't just gain a husband when she married you. We failed to be aware that she had married into a corporation headed, anchored, and steered by your father."

Nimueh's tone was even, but there was no hiding the barb of her words. It was one of the things Guinevere admired most in her.

"While we were careful to make sure that you would take precautions not to be around Ms. Leodegrance, our lack of foresight leads us to our current predicament."

She opened the folder in front of her and removed a single sheet.

"There is no love lost between your father and Guinevere," Nimueh said as she aimed a pointed look at Arthur whose look shot daggers back at the attorney. "So, please, remove all notions that her inclusion in his will was an act of hidden affection."

Nimueh took a deep breath before continuing.

"Upon Ygraine's death, fifty percent of her properties were automatically transferred to Uther," Nimueh's eyes briefly scanned the piece of paper in front of her. "This covers all assets that cannot immediately be liquefied; Tintagel was at the top of that list. The other fifty percent, covering bank accounts, shares and stocks, and small items of jewelry were placed in your name, Mr. Pendragon, but held in trust until you reached a certain age."

Arthur expelled a breath. Guinvere was confused, why was Nimueh discussing this with Arthur? Why wasn't Merlin present? Futhermore...

"Why am I here?" Guinvere's question stopped Nimueh from continuing. "This discussion should be between Merlin and Arthur."

Nimueh looked at the woman whom she had come to regard as a close friend.

_'How I wish I could protect you right now, Gwen,'_ she thought as she saw the unspoken questions in her eyes.

"Mr. Emrys is Uther's excutor," Nimueh said as she looked from Arthur to Guinevere. "Annis Caerleon _is_ Ygraine's."

While the room was silent before, it was now heavy with tension.

"And as Ms. Caerleon cannot make an appearance today, I am speaking on her behalf."

Guinevere had nothing to say, she still failed to see how this could possibly include her.

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" Arthur's voice was tight, betraying the anger beneath his seemingly unaffected facade.

"This part of your late mother's will only took effect upon your father's death. There was no need to discuss it before that and Annis was not under any obligation to disclose that she was your mother's attorney."

No one could argue with that logic. Surely, no time was ever good to go up to someone and let them know that they were their deceased parent's legal representative.

It took a moment, but Arthur waved a hand imperiously in front of him, motioning Nimeuh to continue. The attorney's mouth pressed into a line, indicating her displeasure at Arthur's gesture, but went on with her explanation.

"As I said, upon Ygraine's death, Tintagel immediately transferred to Uther," she looked at Arthur again. "But, this was only because you were an infant. Had you been older, it would have been yours at once."

Arthur nodded. He was aware of this arrangement; Tintagel was the birthright of each Clarent firstborn. And as Arthur was the only child of Uther and Ygraine, there were no other heirs to contest this condition.

Nimueh cleared her throat softly, catching Arthur's attention.

"Your father never remarried after your mother passed away," she continued. "And as you reached your thirteenth birthday, Uther made special revisions to his will."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. _'What the hell, father,'_ he thought.

"Given the...circumstances of your mother's death, I suppose Uther was concerned that Ygraine's legacy might end abruptly. He contacted Annis and crafted a special provision to ensure that Tintagel would always be given to a Clarent firstborn."

"I don't understand," Arthur spoke and confusion was clear in his voice.

Nimueh took a deep breath and picked up the piece of paper she had previously withdrawn from the sheaf of documents inside the folder.

"This provision," she said as she looked at the document before her. "States that should there only be one child born from a Clarent firstborn, in the event of said child's marriage, Tintagel automatically becomes the conjugal property of the couple. To be jointly cared for by them."

Guinevere's eyes widened. Surely she didn't mean...

"Uther barely wanted me near his son," Guinevere spoke quite suddenly. "Why would he include me in his will?"

She was unable to disguise the scorn in her voice. _'This is unbelievable,'_ she thought. _'The nerve of these Pendragons!'_

"Honestly, Gwen, I wish I had a better explanation," Nimueh took another deep breath, only this time, there was no hiding her exasperation. "But the only conclusion Annis and I arrived at was that in the event of another...tragedy, Tintagel—in effect—would still be in the hands of a Clarent firstborn. And since married couples are expected to have children..."

Her voice trailed off, leaving Guinevere to fill in the rest of the sentence.

"The chain of inheritance would remain intact," she sighed wearily. "Goddammit."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. His father had come up with some pretty twisted ways to torment him and Guinevere while they were still married, but this...this was more than twisted. This was malicious.

"Uther could have changed the conditions of the will," this time, it was Nimueh who was puzzled. "But for some strange reason, he didn't."

"Because he was a sick, twisted bastard," Arthur's harsh voice broke through the tension. "He couldn't get to Guinevere and I when we were married, and because we divorced without him being behind the separation, he wanted to control our lives the only other way he knew how."

The two women stared at him.

"Your father was a fine piece of work, Arthur," Nimueh said. It should have stung, Arthur thought, but as his train of thought was following the same path, he didn't think to argue.

"He was," Arthur sighed. "A bastard until the end."

A short silence stretched between the three people in the office until Guinvere spoke.

"What else is in the will?"

"That can only be discussed when Mr. Emrys arrives," Nimueh said and she tucked the piece of paper back into the folder. "Which should be tomorrow afternoon."

The attorney glanced at her wristwatch before speaking again.

"Two in the afternoon tomorrow," she said, once again in a professional tone. "Annis will present then, so will Mr. Emrys. But I will be here as well."

She stood up, taking the folder as she did.

"Now, I will leave you two to discuss this between yourselves," she walked around her desk and to the door. "I would suggest deciding on a plan to make the discussions go as smoothly as possible."

She reached out and grasped the doorknob before facing the couple who had swiveled in their chairs to look at her as she was about to step out the office.

"Because there is one more thing I must tell you," she paused before continuing. "This condition does not have a loophole. You are to look after Tintagel together."

With a nod at Guinevere, Nimueh walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

**-6-**

An uneasy silence hung between the two occupants of the room. Guinevere looked at the door, her mind running with a million thoughts, all of them springing forward because of what Nimueh said.

"This condition does not have a loophole."

Her friend's intellectual prowess was not something to disregard. She was as shrewd as she was thorough, and it was her guidance that steered Guinevere through some of the more creative methods Arthur's lawyers used to try to intimidate her into submission.

Her brother had been a steady source of support, but Annis and Nimueh—they were her light during the darkest of moments. And now that Nimueh was hesitating...it was the only time Guinevere ever felt fear in these last three years.

Arthur cleared his throat and she turned to look at him. She could have read into the way his body rested in his chair; the way his eyes rested on her face, the way he occupied the whole room even while being still. But the time over fawning him was over. The scars from three years ago ran too deep, and Guinevere had long ago taught herself how not to show any emotion where Arthur was concerned.

She looked him straight in the eye, long enough for him to fidget slightly under her unwavering gaze before speaking.

"What do you suggest we do?"

His eyebrows rose at her words. He clearly did not expect what she just said.

"So eager to take my advice, Guinevere?" Arthur said, a mocking tone in his voice. "The last time you were this agreeable, you still wore my ring on your finger."

Guinevere stared at him for a beat longer, letting him know that his barbs had no power over her anymore

"Let me make one thing clear to you," she finally said. "I will do anything if it means ridding myself of you, your family, and everything you represent for the rest of my life."

Arthur's eyes widened. He was used to seeing her timid; she was gentle even when she was expressing her opinions, always careful not to offend the person she was speaking to, what he did not count on was hearing her speak so plainly to him

"I have no desire to own anything that is even remotely connected to you," Guinevere continued, not paying attention to the shock that was plain on Arthur's face. "And I will not bother Annis and Nimueh with finding ways to make your life easier."

She stood up and began to walk away from him.

"This is your mother's inheritance that your father messed with," Guinevere bit out the words. "This is your problem, not mine. My only concern is how to get you," a finger pointed in Arthur's face, "out of my life once and for all."

She strode to the door, anger making her back rigid.

"I suggest talking to your lawyers, Arthur," she glanced down at the small watch on her wrist. "I will do the same."

She continued to look at him, she had failed to keep her expression emotionless, but she was beyond caring if he saw her distaste.

"You've become exactly like your father," Guinevere's lip curled in a sneer. "How proud he would have been to see you like this."

"And what exactly does 'this' mean?"

"A bastard," Guinevere replied. "You are exactly where you father has always wanted you to be."

A wry smile slowly formed on her lips.

"I guess you and I were both wrong about him," she said, noting how Arthur has said nothing. "He had excellent parenting skills, after all. He molded you into his vision of perfection."

Arthur's eyes blazed with fury, but Guinevere refused to acknowledge his anger. She opened the door and made to walk out of the room.

"Two P.M. tomorrow, Arthur," she said, throwing the words carelessly over her shoulder.

Guinevere crossed the threshold and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her and leaving a clearly fuming Arthur in her wake.


	7. Chapter 7

**-7-**

Arthur sat in the empty room, his breathing labored from trying to control his anger. It was costing him extreme will power not to stalk after the woman who just left, haul her back in the room, and demand she take back everything she just said.

It would be similar to the actions of a child in the throes of a temper tantrum, but Arthur was seething. He was a little relieved that this meeting had not happened in his office or else everything in the room would have been destroyed, upended, or broken.

Three years have not done anything to rid him of his feelings for his ex-wife. Guinevere still managed to get under his skin with very little effort, and at the end of every encounter, he was left with thoughts of her. It had taken him a full year of doing some incredibly stupid things before coming to terms with the fact that he would always love her—that he would always be in love with her. That much was clear to Arthur.

Seeing her was like a hot knife twisting in his gut. And as painful as it was, it was made even worse because he knew that his pain was her fault.

'She went behind my back to be with another man,' Arthur reminded himself and once again, the sick despair of her betrayal filled him.

Her infidelity hurt—oh, it hurt him deeply. Because he would have moved mountains if it meant her rewarding him with a smile. He lived for her happiness; Arthur had always thought it laughable when men declared that their wives completed them, but when he met Guinevere—she did more than complete him, she made him feel like he was capable of anything.

That's what made her betrayal do painful: she did more than left him. She damaged him. Guinevere broke something in him, something that was now beyond repair.

Arthur bowed his head when he remembered the days right before they signed the divorce papers. He had never seen Uther more cheerful than in the weeks he and Guinevere's lawyers arranged the conditions of the separation. His father had pulled strings and had the papers drawn up in days, and in less than month, they were signing the final agreement.

He had existed in a semi-inebriated state throughout the proceedings, to dull the pain and to forget her. He barely noticed that she was constantly losing weight throughout the proceedings, that she barely answered when asked questions, preferring Annis to speak on her behalf. The only time he remembered her looking in her direction was when he arrived at a mediation almost falling over himself in his drunkenness. Mithian had been with him that day.

Even in his barely-lucid state, Arthur remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction at the look of shock on her face. And three years later, he still remembers how very hurt she appeared when he attended every succeeding mediation with Mithian adorning his arm. He didn't care, wanting to dole out the same humiliation she made him go through when he saw her with him.

_Him._

Arthur was sure he would have forgiven Guinevere for anything—anything—even infidelity, as long as it was anyone but him.

Lancelot du Lac.

Lancelot had been Guinevere's fiance before Arthur met her. He had actually met Guinevere through Lancelot: Uther had hosted one of his lavish get-togethers for his clients and Lancelot had attended in lieu of his father. Guinevere had been with him and Arthur fell hard and fast for her on sight. She seemed to be aware of his attraction from the beginning, and made every conscious effort to steer clear of him.

But after Lancelot left her suddenly, it took Arthur little time to start seeking her out. Guinevere surprised him; what he thought was physical attraction turned out to much, much deeper.

Guinevere was more grounded than he could ever hope to be; she was calm where he was mercurial, logical when he was ruled by his emotions. He came to seek out not only her company, but also her judgement when it came to things that troubled him, professional as well as personal. Guinevere had been his rock, keeping him sane when all he wanted to do was lash out against his father and the world he grew up in.

Deciding he wanted to marry her was easy. He could no longer envision a world that she didn't occupy. The absence of his father's blessing pained him, but as long as he had Guinevere, the world could fall by the wayside.

She knew how insecure he had been about Lancelot. How he dreaded his ever coming back into her life. Throughout their courtship and marriage, Guinevere had assured him that it would never happen, that he had hurt her too much for her to ever want him again.

Arthur was pacified...or so he thought, but the day he saw Guinevere with him, his world crumbled. They were sitting close together, their postures far too intimate to be considered merely friendly. To this day, Arthur doesn't know how he walked away from that scene and waited for his wife in the home they shared.

The confrontation had been brutal, and she had denied ever being inappropriate with Lancelot, but he knew better. He saw them and it didn't take much brain power for him to deduce that they were discussing something far more personal than why he was in the same restaurant as she was.

He had come so close to striking her that day. But as hurt as he was, the thought of hurting her that way had been unthinkable. He couldn't do it.

And she had dared to question him about trust!

Guinevere filed the papers the next day. Weeks later, the divorce was final, he was with Mithian, and Guinevere had apparently disappeared into thin air.

Arthur was shaken from his recollections when someone opened the door. He looked up to see Nimueh walking back into the office.

"Not to be rude, Mr. Pendragon," she said as she took her place behind the desk. "But I will need you to leave now. I imagine you have a lot to discuss with Mr. Emrys."

She settled into her chair and looked him squarely in the eye.

"Ms. Caerleon, Ms. Leodegrance, and I will see you tomorrow afternoon."

She bent her head and started reading the papers on her desk. Arthur had to admire her spirit-not everyone would be so dismissive of him.

He stood up and, without another word, walked out of her office. He was vaguely aware of voices in the hall as he made his way to the front door. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks and stared at the couple in front of him.

Guinevere, enfolded in Lancelot's arms.


	8. Chapter 8

**-8-**

_'Safe,'_ Guinevere thought. She was safe for the meantime. She was leaving her attorney's offices and she was going to go to a place where even Arthur would be unable to reach her.

"Are you all right?" She heard Lancelot whisper as soon as she reached his side. He had been her friend throughout all of this. He knew that he was partly to blame for the death of her marriage; the death of Arthur's trust in her, and he took it upon himself to help her any way he could.

She stayed with him during the divorce proceedings—well, she stayed in his house while he lived halfway across the world. He offered his help, his resources, and his influence. The Du Lac name opened as many doors as Pendragon and all those that didn't, Lancelot swore he would break down.

She was thankful, of course, she told him so. But, as painful as her separation from Arthur was going to be, she wanted to go through the process herself. She needed to know how much she could bear. If she was able to live through the end of her marriage, then she could live through anything.

Lancelot was her silent partner in her pain. He had respectfully kept his distance, taking her request to be left alone to heart.

"It's funny," she told him one day, just as the hearings for the divorce was about to start. "I should hate you because your leaving me was what brought all of this on. But, oddly enough, I suppose you're the only one who can even come close to understanding how I'm feeling right now."

She had long ago forgiven Lancelot for leaving her. There had been issues between them from the beginning, and if Gwen was being honest with herself, she was relieved when he left. She was miffed that he didn't give her a proper goodbye, but their relationship had been teetering on the edge of finality for quite a while. With neither of them wanting to be the one to send a Dear John letter, Lancelot ended everything when he left abruptly. It was the coward's way out—both of them knew it—but it spared them an awkward end.

Lancelot had salvaged whatever was left of her during her divorce. He had become her rock, the person she relied on when she was unable to trust her own instincts. And when whatever sanity remained with her after her loss...Lancelot saved that, too. She had tried to explain to him how all of this meant to her, how much she appreciated his efforts to rebuild her, but he had waved her gratitude aside.

"You rebuilt yourself, Gwen," he had told her. "I just sat with you and held your hand."

Lancelot. Always giving too much of himself—even to the people who may not deserve it. She told him this once, and he just laughed.

"So I'm the male version of you, then?" He had asked.

They had laughed about this as well.

She was the first person she spoke to when the summons from Merlin arrived. Before Elyan, before Annis and Nimueh, she called Lancelot. She had been a trembling mess, thinking of every insane scenario she could think about.

"Did anyone find out, Lancelot?" She was whispered into the phone. "What if he found out about..."

"He didn't Gwen," Lancelot had replied, his voice calm. "I made sure that everyone who knew signed a gag order."

His calmness had soothed her. And true to his nature, he told her that he would be there every step of the way. She wouldn't be alone this time. He wouldn't leave her alone to be torn apart the wolves of Pendragon.

And here she was, once again. In the Caerleon Law Offices, figuring out her plans of action after Typhoon Arthur. It wasn't so lonely this time, she had to admit. She had Annis, Nimueh, and Elyan solidly behind her. And Lancelot, always Lancelot. There were no secrets between all of them now. Not that she had much left after...

"My, how cozy," a laconic tone broke into her remembrances. "I do apologize for interrupting your...reunion."

Guinevere stiffened in Lancelot's embrace. She nearly bolted, wanting to run out the door. The last thing she wanted was to give Arthur ammunition to use against her.

She felt Lancelot tense as well, but his arms tightened comfortingly around her, preventing her flight.

"Don't," he whispered. "He can't do anything to hurt you now."

Guinevere moved away from Lancelot's embrace and turned to look at Arthur. His expression chilled her. His eyes—once so warm and full of love—were like chips of ice. His lips were curled into a sneer; whatever empathy he may have felt for her was gone. Arthur was angry; Arthur was angry at her.

How dare he.

She lifted her chin a little and looked him in the eye. Lancelot's arm was still around her shoulders, and while she kept her hands clasped in front of her, Guinevere knew that the way she stood right next to him gave Arthur's imagination fodder.

_'Let him think what he wants,'_ she thought. She didn't care what visions danced through Arthur's mind. She wasn't about to play this game—not again, not anymore.

"Arthur Pendragon," Lancelot drawled, making Arthur's name sound like a greeting and a profanity.

"I trust that your meeting with Nimueh went well," he gave Guinevere's shoulder a squeeze. The way Arthur's nostril's flared at this didn't escape Guinevere. Arthur was angry and jealous; this would not bode well for her.

"Not well enough," Arthur replied. His tone was polite, but the steel in his tone was plain. "I was hoping to extricate myself from this mess, but it seems like I still have to bear with temporary unpleasantness."

His gaze slid over to Guinevere and it took all of her will not to run over to her ex-husband and pummel him with her fists. He still had the audacity to mock after everything he did to her!

"I'm assure you that the feeling is mutual, Arthur," Guinevere responded cooly to Arthur's jibe. "Three years is far, far too short a time to be reminded of your existence."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and she met his stare with her own.

"You two are together, then," Arthur said; a statement, not a question.

Lancelot gave Guinevere's shoulder another squeeze, but neither of them spoke. The lack of response seemed to rankle Arthur further and she knew that his next barb was going to hurt.

"Lancelot," he gave a mirthless chuckle. "Always so ready to take my leavings."

Guinevere drew in a breath. She knew she wasn't on Arthur's list of favorite people, but that...that was uncalled for. But, it wasn't unexpected, really. He was Uther's son, after all.

Guinevere was surprised to feel Lancelot's hand capture her own. The warmth of his palm easing the iciness that seemed to envelop hers.

_'Lancelot,'_ she thought. _'Forever my champion'._ Never had she been more grateful to have his protection.

She looked up to see him give Arthur a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. There was no mistaking the fire of anger that was present in Lancelot's gaze, but there was a hint of sadness there, too. He knew how much Arthur's words hurt Guinevere.

"I suppose that's how we differ, Arthur," Lancelot's voice had taken a hard edge. "I never thought of Guinevere to be anything less than perfection."

It was Guinevere's turn to squeeze Lancelot's hand in gratitude, his defense of her dulled Arthur's barbs.

"Have a good day, Arthur," Lancelot spoke again, the politeness of his tone offsetting the harshness of his features. "I do hope that this is the beginning of the last time Guinevere and I see you."

Guinevere smiled at that. Arthur had paled at Lancelot's words. It implied so many things; left so many scenarios up to the imagination—all of which, she assumed, were making a home in Arthur's mind.

She looked at Arthur one more time before turning to make her way to the door. Lancelot escorted Guinevere to her car and he spoke just before she unlocked the door.

"Are you all right, Guinevere?" He asked. His tone was cautious, worried. "It was a little intense there for a while."

Guinevere smiled. It was just like Lancelot to worry about her where Arthur was concerned. She could not fault him; he knew first hand how destructive her ex-husband's wrath could be.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "That was nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"He had no right to speak to you that way."

"No, he didn't," she agreed. "But that's hardly a matter to worry about right now."

Guinevere sighed and let her eyes wander to the door of Annis' law office.

"Let him think the worst of me," she said. "After what he said in there, I don't think I'll have very far left to sink."

"Whenever you need me, Gwen," Lancelot left the offer hanging.

She patted his hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She knew how far Lancelot would go to protect her. He saved her life three years back, he would champion her again.

They said their goodbyes and Guinevere got inside her car and drove away.

_'Small mercies,'_ she thought. _'There is no child to think of this time.'_


	9. Chapter 9

**-9-**

Arthur stood in the middle of a now-empty front hall, torn between running after Guinevere so he could wrench her from Lancelot's grasp and running after Lancelot so that he could rip off his head for coming near his Guinevere.

_'Wait. "His Guinevere"?'_

Three years have passed, most of it with him not knowing where his ex-wife had disappeared to, and he still thinks of Guinevere as his? Even after all the pain she dealt, why does she still have power over him?

_'Because you never let her go,'_ said a voice in his head. _'You divorced her, not erase her from your heart. You hurt her as much as she hurt you.'_

Arthur sucked in a breath, forcing back the pain that was twisting his guy.

_'At least she was kind enough to stay away. You flaunted your relationship with Mithian.'_

The knot in his chest refused to loosen; the image of Guinevere enfolded in Lancelot's arms seemingly burned into his memory. She looked so comfortable, so at ease as he was hugging her. And there was no mistaking the possessive stance Lancelot took when they both faced him.

_'I should be rejoicing,'_ Arthur told himself. _'This proves that I was right all along. She never really got over Lancelot."_

But the only thing going through his mind was the image of Lancelot with his arm around Guinevere. The way she leaned into him and the way his hand so easily found hers. She didn't flinch; in fact she seemed to settle in the embrace.

How long Arthur stood in that room, he didn't know. But he was still staring at the wall, stewing over Guinevere and Lancelot when Nimueh walked in on him.

"Do I need to start charging rent, Mr. Pendragon?"

Arthur whirled around and saw the lawyer's unamused expression.

"How are Lancelot and Guinevere related now?" The question sprang forth before he could stopper it. He needed to know.

"That is not any of your concern," Nimueh said sharply as she strode across the room to the front door. She grasped the knob and opened the door, indicating that he was welcome to leave. If that wasn't clear enough, Nimueh made a sweeping gesture with her arm.

"Leave," she said, the one word laden with her displeasure at sharing space with him.

Arthur stood his ground, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and rocking slightly on his heels. He refused to be antagonized by anyone who was on the side of his ex-wife.

"I don't think so," he said with a smile. "I think I have the right to know about the person with whom I am about to share a significant inheritance."

He looked Nimueh in the eye. She stared straight back at him.

"Guinevere doesn't owe you anything," she said. "Whatever business is to be discussed between you two will be arranged tomorrow."

Arthur stood his ground.

"What is she hiding, Nimueh?"

A muscle worked in the young lawyer's cheek as she ground her teeth.

You must be laboring under the impression that I am intimidated or impressed by you, Mr. Pendragon," she said, each word as cold as chips of ice. "I assure you that I am not. Please leave or I will have to report you to the police..."

"On what grounds?"

"Trespassing."

A heavy silence hung between the two occupants in the room. Neither was willing to budge from their current positions; but Arthur knew that he was going to have to leave. It didn't mean, however, that he was going to make the moments before he did pleasant for his ex-wife's legal counsel.

"You and Guinevere seem to keep awfully mum about her whereabouts after the divorce papers were signed," he said calmly. "And please do not think that I did not notice how her absence was not at all mentioned during our little meeting in your office."

A small, almost cruel smile played about Arthur's lips. Nimueh noted that the same expression was mirrored in Aggravaine and Morgana's face during the final mediation. The one which Arthur could not be bothered to attend.

"Let me make one more thing clear to you Mr. Pendragon," Nimueh's voice was seething with barely suppressed rage. "All matters pertaining to your married life with Guinevere were laid bare during the divorce proceedings."

Fire flashed from her eyes and Arthur was pleased that he rankled the lawyers cool facade. She deserved this for representing Guinevere.

"Contrary to what you may believe, she never lied to you during your marriage or the arbitration."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I find that difficult to believe as it was her secret meetings that brought about the divorce."

"Still believing yourself to be blameless and faultless, Arthur?" Nimueh's tone was mocking now. "I seem to recall that it was your jealousy and refusal to hear her explanations to be the cause of your separation."

Her words hit Arthur like a blow to the stomach.

"But if that makes you sleep better at night, then so be it."

Calmness seemed to cloak Nimueh once again; her expression back to a serene mask.

Arthur walked slowly to the door, all the while looking straight at Nimueh. He had to admit that it was brave of her to never once break her gaze.

As soon as he got to the door, he paused and began to speak in a low and deadly voice.

"If you are hiding anything from me, anything that will make me look bad, I will have you disbarred. If you and Guinevere so much as move one inch to cross me both of you will pay. If you, Annis, and Guinevere do anything to jeopardize my claim to Tintagel, I will make you regret it."

Nimueh's cold eyes never wavered and she replied in a voice that was just as icy.

"Be thankful that I am not taking that as a threat against me or my client, Mr. Pendragon."

"I owe Guinevere nothing. She cheated on me by being with Lancelot so I had our marriage dissolved, you will recall that despite not having a prenuptial agreement, I was generous: I gave her the house..."

"The house is now owned by Morgana."

That stopped Arthur. That house? The home that they shared? The house he bought because it made Guinevere happy?

"Why?" His voice had taken on a rough edge. Guinevere would never sell the house. And to Morgana of all people!

Nimueh gave a small, cruel smile.

"Like I said, Mr. Pendragon, all matters concerning your married life with my client were laid bare during the divorce proceedings. Everything that came after is, frankly, none of your business."

She crossed her arms in front of her, an antagonistic rather than a defensive gesture.

"Although, if it were up to me, I would throw the facts in your face."

"I will learn the truth," Arthur said. "Don't think you can keep secrets about Guinevere from me."

Nimueh paused at this. And when she spoke again, it was with a more subdued tone.

"I hope you do."

Arthur shrugged.

"She seems to have done rather well for herself, don't you think?" he said, faking a pensive tone. "First a Pendragon, then a du Lac. She likes wealthy men."

Whatever cruelty Arthur wanted to drive in was met with a sense of sadness from Nimueh.

"Learn the truth, Mr. Pendragon, then let's see if you're worth the ground Guinevere walks on afterwards."

She opened the door further and this time, Arthur walked through and out of the building. He was angry and insulted at having been told off like he was a moron, but as he walked to the car whose door was now being held open by his driver, an overwhelming sense of sadness filled him. His fears were realized; Guinevere had never loved him, she had been in love with Lancelot all along.


	10. Chapter 10

**-10-**

Lancelot stood on the sidewalk, carefully watching as Guinevere maneuvered her small car and drove away. Only after she had turned the corner that he turned to his driver who stood a respectful distance from him. He boarded the vehicle and let his chauffeur know that he wanted to go to the office. He stared out the window and began to think about what happened earlier. Looking after Guinevere was a task he took seriously. Even when they were still together, he had always had a protective streak as far as she was concerned.

He thought back on the days before he left her that final time. She had been so happy because Elyan had come from service. Her brother had left home at 18 and enlisted in the armed forces, and as this came at the heels of a particularly nasty argument with their father, Elyan's sudden absence was devastating to Guinevere. He had sent the occasional letter, but was never home for birthdays, holidays, or their anniversaries of their mother's death.

Seeing her so joyful at Elyan's arrival was a stake through his heart, but he knew that he had to leave. They had been dancing around each other for months, and Guinevere's obvious attraction to Arthur Pendragon was just another thing that added weight to Lancelot's decision to end the connection between himself and Gwen.

He should have been braver, he supposed. He should have manned up and been able to talk to her face-to-face, but he knew how she would react: she would be protest and have wept and but then tried to reassure him that it was, indeed, the right thing to do. She would have been hurt, but Lancelot knew it wouldn't be because he was leaving, it would be because she would have thought that she was to blame.

But she wasn't. She never would be. Never, as far as he was concerned.

There was never any passion between them. There was attraction, there was respect, and there was love—but not the love that keep you awake at night. Not the love that lit a fire under you and consumed your being. The love between him and Guinevere was companionable, safe, reverent. And while it had been good in the beginning, it took little time for their relationship to stagnate. Lancelot knew that both he and Guinevere deserved something better.

Arthur Pendragon came into the picture quite by accident. Guinevere had been his date to a party thrown by the Du Lac group of companies, and as it was decreed by societal niceties to invite people with influence, Arthur and his father were in attendance.

Guinevere had been beautiful that night, but more than her appearance, it was her natural charm and warmth that drew people's eyes to her. Lancelot was a shadow behind her and he had been proud to escort her that evening.

His gut had churned when Arthur made a beeline for Gwen and introduced himself. He couldn't explain it then, but he wanted to smash Arthur's face in when he shook Gwen's hand. Lancelot had known the Pendragon heir since they were both children. He and Arthur ran in the same social circles, their parents were business associates, but the similarities ended there. The Pendragons favored industry, the Du Lac's business were closer to home. Maurice Du Lac, Lancelot's great-grandfather, was a self-made man; his background was in science, and with his medical discoveries, had made quite a name and reputation for himself. The Du Lac business was in pharmaceuticals, and his family were well-known patrons of the arts and sciences. He wasn't brought up in the cutthroat world of business mergers and hostile takeovers, but it didn't take long for him to realize that Arthur Pendragon's acumen extended beyond business. He saw Guinevere as something to be conquered, and it grated at Lancelot because, despite how he may have felt about their relationship, Guinevere's feelings were paramount to him.

He had told her of Arthur's reputation as a love-'em-and-leave-'em type of guy, but Gwen had scoffed and told him he had nothing to worry about. As time went on, however, it became more and more difficult for her to disguise her growing attraction to the younger Pendragon. Arthur had grown so enamored of Gwen that he actually took Lancelot aside and let him know that he had fallen in love with his girlfriend but would not do anything to break them apart. It rankled at Lancelot, but he saw how tender Arthur was with Guinevere. Even a blind man could see how deeply he had fallen for her. Guinevere, ever so mindful of hurting Lancelot, had refused to be left alone with Arthur. But Lancelot felt that he had lost the minute Arthur stepped into her life.

The spark that was missing between him and Guinevere was evident when she and Arthur were together; he had often felt like an intruder in his own relationship. She glowed whenever he was around; Arthur beamed whenever she was near him. It settled Lancelot's nerves knowing that she would not be lonely if he left; that Arthur would make her happy.

A few months after he left, he received news that Arthur and Guinevere were indeed in a relationship and he had smiled at that. He had always wanted Gwen's happiness, and it was obvious that it would never be with him. When news about their marriage reached him, he had said a small prayer of thanks. Gwen deserved the passion and love Arthur could give her. But soon, news of discord between the newlyweds and Uther had slowly become known to him as well. Uther Pendragon was a hard, unyielding man, not given over to sentimentality or kindness. That Gwen was someone without social pedigree or influence was not something that Uther would overlook, but there was little he could do because she was his son's wife.

He never knew how difficult it had been for Gwen until she asked to see him. He wanted to know why and she had confided that living with Uther's presence was a nightmare. More than being tyrannical, the man was a bully, showing the nastiest side of his personality when Arthur was not there to act as a buffer between them.

_"It's awful Lancelot,"_ she had whispered over the phone._ "The things he calls me...it makes my skin crawl."_

The fear and defeat he heard in Gwen's voice made him want to rip Uther Pendragon limb from limb. He flew out the next day to see her—wanting to know how to help the woman he still cared deeply for.

_"A business,"_ she had confided in him. _"You know that small bookshop I always dreamed of having?"_

Lancelot nodded. Gwen loved books, her small flat had been filled with them and her job as a librarian fed her insatiable need to be around them.

_"If you could help me put together a business plan, I could find a way to finance the shop and I..."_

Her voice had faded away and it took little for Lancelot to fill in the details.

_"You wouldn't need to be around Uther."_

She had nodded.

He asked if Arthur knew about her plans and she said no, he didn't press her for any more details. Gwen trusted him enough to be her business adviser and that was enough. That first meeting had almost been their last because Gwen had been difficult to get in touch with after that. The next news he had of Gwen was that she had filed for a divorce from Arthur. Lancelot had stayed in town, wanting to let Gwen know that he wasn't going to leave her vulnerable.

His instincts were right.

Lancelot had enough influence to be let in on some of the details of the divorce. Guinevere had pointed out irreconcilable differences, but his sources let him know that Arthur had been possessive of his wife—especially where he was concerned. He had apparently seen them together that one time and concluded that his wife was being unfaithful. Lancelot wanted to beat Arthur to a pulp when he heard that.

Their divorce had taken two weeks, helped along, another source told him, by Uther Pendragon. The old man had a heavy hand in expediting the process, wanting to remove her from his son's life once and for all. The proceedings were, thanfully, kept from the public and, out of respect for Guinevere's privacy, Lancelot kept his distance as well. He knew, however, that Arthur kept company with Mithian Nemeth. He thought that was odd. He knew Mithian from University, and was always under the impression that she preferred to be out of the limelight. This sudden association with Arthur—just as he was divorcing his wife—was very strange indeed.

Lancelot thought back on those days and was unable to hold back the grimace that marred his features. Gwen was dragged through such ugliness. What little he found out turned his stomach; the divorce may have been quickly dealt with, but its effects were far-reaching. Especially on that dark day when he received a call from Guinevere.

_"Lancelot,"_ she had said, her voice breaking in her grief. _"I'm pregnant."_

Miles away, in the sleekly decorated house that was once Guinevere and Arthur's home, two people were having a discussion of their own.

"How, how does that woman have control over Tintagel?" Agravaine raged as Morgana sat on a leather chair, her face an unreadable mask. "Uther loathed her; he wanted her out of Arthur's life—how does she get my family's estate?"

He turned to the woman who had been silent all throughout his tirade. Morgana held a single sheet of paper in her hand, as though she had been patiently waiting for the older man to stop raving so she could speak

"Calm down, Aggravaine..."

"Don't," Aggravaine's voice was cold. The single word shook as he tried to suppress his anger. "This isn't a time to ask me to be calm, Morgana. So help me, I will rid the world of that woman!"

Morgana raised an eyebrow.

"That would be good," she said. "If messy. We have to be smart about this, Aggravaine. Our hands have to be clean."

"Then how do you suggest we rid ourselves of that...that...bitch?"

Morgana raised her hand, indicating that she wanted Aggravaine to take the piece of paper she held.

"Read it," she said and waited a little more as the man took in the contents of the letter. She noted how his face split into a malicious smile as he absorbed what he read.

"Well, well," Aggravaine said. "Seems like Ms. Perfect has a few secrets."

"Correction," Morgana said silkily. "She has one big secret."

"A child," Aggravaine was practically apoplectic with joy.

"A little Pendragon baby secreted away, hidden from Arthur all these years," Morgana's sneering tone was hard to miss. "Imagine what he's going to do when he finds out."

She looked at Aggravaine who was practically dancing in his mirth.

"We won't have to lift a finger—Arthur's going to be the one to destroy her for us."

Morgana sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. The defeat of Guinevere was something she was going to enjoy.


	11. Chapter 11

**-11-**

Merlin rubbed a hand across his forehead. It had been an eventful day, to say the least. Between arranging the details of Uther's will to make sure that he could relay its contents effectively to dealing with the fallout following the revelation that Gwen was included in the group, perhaps "shitty as hell" would be the exact way to describe it.

Merlin leaned back against his chair and stared up at the ceiling. When had it all gone wrong? He and Gwen were the best of friends growing up. She had been there to comfort him when his father dad died while in military service, and he had been there for her when her mom passed away after years of battling cancer. If you had told Merlin that the day would come when Guinevere didn't even want to be in the same room as him, he would have laughed you out of the room.

_'But things change,'_ Merlin thought as he leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. It was a sunny day; the weather was mild and there was just enough of a breeze to keep things from being too warm. But it just didn't matter anymore. Things just weren't the same since he had put an end to their friendship. It had been over three years ago, but Merlin remembered it like it was yesterday.

She had been in this room with Annis Caerleon, her face was ashen and her expression dazed. Merlin hadn't thought anything of it, chalking it up to the fact that it was the last day of the mediation—she and Arthur would be signing the divorce papers. After today, their separation would be legal and they would no longer be husband and wife.

Merlin supposed he should have been more empathetic, but his patience had worn thin. Guinevere and her legal advisers had put off the final meeting for several days, giving him and Arthur no further reason other than it was for "pressing concerns."

"Stop making it easy for them, Merlin!" Uther Pendragon had stormed into his office the evening before. To say that he was livid was an understatement.

"Arthur has waited for days!" He had gestured to his son who was standing a few feet behind his father, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, looking disgusted over this current turn of events.

"We have been patient," Uther raged. "We have agreed to everything that woman has requested, the least she can do is to expedite the signing of the papers!"

Uther had slammed a hand over his desk and the force of it had made Merlin jump.

"Do your job, Emrys or I will make sure that you never practice law again!"

Uther had stormed out of his office, leaving him and Arthur in his wake. An uneasy silence stretched between them, with neither man wanting to comment on the drama that just happened.

"What do you want, Arthur?" He had looked at his friend, wanting to see...something in his eyes, but however Merlin probed, Arthur's eyes were blank. Just as they had been since Gwen filed the divorce papers.

"Make sure that she signs the papers."

Arthur had walked out and left Merlin alone. Merlin had placed a late night phone call to Annis Caerleon, hoping that the attorney would be exercise enough reason to have her client arrive for the scheduled last day. Instead, he had spoken with a very icy Nimueh Lakewood, and it was only after a heated exchange of words that she hinted at letting Annis know the urgency of his request.

So there he was, two days after, sitting in his office with Gwen and Annis. They were waiting for Arthur (who was sure to arrive with Mithian) to make an appearance.

Merlin took in Gwen's wan complexion, and the tension that was evident in every line of her frame. She couldn't look him in the eye and kept turning to Annis who was acting more like a doting relative than a legal counsel. Merlin had heaved a sigh of relief when he heard footsteps outside his door, thinking that Arthur was there at last, but it was Morgana and Aggravaine who came in and seated themselves in the remaining chairs.

"Well?" Morgana had asked, a smirk plainly on her face. "Shall we begin?"

"No," Merlin had answered. "What is to be discussed here does not concern either of you."

"Ah. But you see," Morgana began as she withdrew an envelope from her handbag, "We've been given the authority to attend the proceedings on Arthur's, I mean, Mr. Pendragon's behalf."

Merlin took the proffered letter and read it. His brow had furrowed as he took in the contents of the letter.

"Should I take offense at your inclusion in this matter, Ms. DuBois?" Annis Caerleon's voice was icy and it gave Merlin a crude sort of satisfaction to see how Morgana had stiffened at the lawyer's tone.

"Hardly, Ms. Caerleon," a simpering tone had colored Morgana's voice. "Arthur is...indisposed at the moment. Vacationing in the Maldives with Ms. Nemeth, you see. And as he is unable to attend, Uther Pendragon has asked that we appear in his stead. I was made to realize that today's meeting serves merely to assure all parties that Gwen..."

"Ms. Leodegrance," Annis had said, the steel in her voice evident for everyone to hear.

"Yes," Morgana replied, her smirk wavering as she answered. "We are here to witness Ms. Leodegrance sign the divorce papers. Nothing more, nothing less."

"May I see the letter?" Annis' words were polite, but her expression bore no cheer. She was angry and not above letting the rest of the people in the room know what she felt.

Merlin couldn't blame her.

The attorney's eyes quickly scanned the letter and with no change in expression, returned the piece of paper to Merlin. Her eyes bore into his and if he was a weaker man, he would have withered under it.

"Well?" Morgana asked again, a raised eyebrow accompanying her smirk. She had not missed Annis glare. "Shall we begin?"

It had all taken a short time. Annis had paused briefly to speak to Gwen, their voices too low for Merlin to hear. Between Morgana, Aggravaine, Uther, Arthur, and Gwen, he had quite had enough. His patience had worn thin. He wanted this part of his live over and done with,

"Come on, Gwen!" Merlin had raised his voice, catching the attention of his friend and her attorney. "You have stalled for a week, surely nothing in your life is so pressing that it's taking you this long to decide whether or not you want to sign? You asked for this divorce, for heaven's sake!"

Both women's eyes snapped to him. The pain in Gwen's eyes had moved him, but he was tired. He wanted his life back—free from anything even remotely connected to the Pendragons. Maybe he and Gwen could go back to how they were after all of this was done.

Gwen had paused and looked Merlin in the eye. For the first time since the divorce proceedings began, he felt a chill crawl up his spine. That was when he knew that whatever friendship they shared was now broken beyond repair. He wanted to fall to his knees and take back his words, and he almost did, but Gwen spoke.

"You're right, of course, Merlin," she said, her voice like chips of ice. "There is no reason to stall."

She pulled the folder holding the final draft of the divorce papers and opened it. She didn't even scan the contents of each page before affixing her signature. Her movements were curt, deliberate, and to Merlin, painful to watch.

It was over a few seconds later. Guinevere had signed the divorce papers. She was no longer Guinevere Pendragon. She was no longer Merlin's friend either, his tirade had made sure of that.

"Would you care to check the veracity of my signatures, Morgana?" Guinevere had picked up the folder and threw it in the other woman's direction.

The folder landed at Morgana's feet. Fire flashed in her eyes, but she bent and picked it up. She looked over each page, taking in Gwen's signature on every leaf of paper.

"That's everything," Morgana said a few seconds later.

"Good," Guinevere said as she stood up. Annis left her chair at the same moment, lifting her chin as she looked down her nose at the rest of the people in the office.

"Goodbye Mr. Emrys," Annis Caerleon said as she smoothed her skirt. "I trust that everything else is in order?"

Merlin nodded.

"I will be sending everything to your offices tomorrow."

"I would quite like to know what you are talking about," Morgana said. It was obvious that she did not take well to being ignored.

"Ms. DuBois, you said that you were here as an observer, so I would suggest that you play your part," the cold tone of Annis' voice wiped the sneer off Morgana's face and Merlin very nearly stood up and cheered.

"You came, you saw, and now, you leave." Annis made a motion with her fingers, as though flicking away an annoying insect.

"How dare you dismiss me!" Morgana stood up and glared at the attorney.

"I agree, my apologies," Annis said though her tone was less than concilatory. "I suppose it would be best if I pretended that you didn't exist at all."

Gwen stood silent throughout the exchange, and spoke only after Annis' rebuttal had Morgana gawping in voiceless outrage.

"Annis?" She called the other woman's attention. "I would like to leave now." She turned and made her way to the door, not waiting for a response.

"Goodbye you little..." it was Aggravaine who spoke this time.

"I would suggest you keep the rest of your statement to yourself Mr. Clarent," Annis spoke again. "Unless you want another lawsuit on your hands?"

Aggravaine quickly closed his mouth, his face nearly purple in rage.

Annis and Gwen had left quickly after that, Morgana and Aggravaine soon after, but not before a few choice invectives hurled to slander his friend.

Merlin sighed and ran a hand over his forehead. Remembrances of the past always gave him a headache, and recalling the last time Gwen was willingly in his office was not something he thought about often. A few angry words from him had permanently severed their friendship, and he knew that nothing he did would make Gwen forgive him.

The guilt settled low and heavy in his heart. It was never supposed to be like this. He had once sworn to be Gwen's protector, to be her friend over and above everything else. In the end, he turned out to be just as bad as Arthur.


	12. Chapter 12

**-12-**

Two PM of the following morning found Annis, Nimueh, Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur in the office of Emrys Law. Merlin was behind a battered but still impressive desk and the rest of the room's occupants were seated in two groups: Arthur, by himself, in one, Gwen, Annis, and Nimueh in another. The two younger lawyers were shooting each other death glares, Arthur tried to catch his ex-wife's eye, and Gwen wishing very much that was anywhere but in the room.

"Now," Merlin began, clearing his throat to get everyone's attention. "The conditions of this clause are very simple so, once again, I will read it verbatim and we can all discuss how to best go about fulfilling the requirements."

He waited to see if there would be any protests or questions, but sensing nothing but anticipation, he began to read.

"'I, Uther Pendragon, of being sound mind and body, decree that the conditions stated within my last will and testament be followed faithfully, with no deviation from the matters stated within.'"

By the end of it, Merlin had to marvel at his former employer's thoroughness. Uther had covered all his bases, not leaving either Arthur or Gwen any say in the matter of his will's execution. Tintagel belonged to Arthur the moment he was born; as it had been for countless generations, the manor is handed down to every first-born Clarent.

"In the instance where the marriage is dissolved before an heir is born," Uther's will stated, "unless the union is formally declared null and void, the couple will be required to live together in the estate until an heir is produced or one or both individuals remarry. In that instance, the Clarent heir will be required to ensure the continuation of the lineage.'

"This is ridiculous!" Annis raged. "'Until an heir is produced'? Surely, this cannot be legal!"

She turned on Arthur.

"Your father has done some pretty twisted things while he was living, Arthur, but this...this is perverse!"

"I agree," Arthur's mouth was set in a grim line. "Merlin, figure this out."

Merlin cleared his throat and read once again the final clause of the will.

"Should one or either of the concerned parties disregard any portion of this testament, Tintagel will immediately be passed on to the next direct living heir," Merlin said and set the sheaf of papers on his desk. "That means Tintagel will go to..."

"Aggravaine," Arthur nearly spat out the name. "I would rather die."

"I would rather he died," Merlin mumbled to himself.

"I may hate you, Pendragon," Nimueh said, her distate evident in every word. "But even I don't loathe you enough to want Tintagel to pass into the hands of your uncle."

An uneasy agreement settled among the people present.

"Those are the only choices I have?" Guinevere's soft voice broke through the tension in the room. "Live with Arthur until I can produce an heir, remarry, or get an annulment?"

She looked at Merlin and her face showed a woman that was so broken that a lump of pain formed in Merlin's throat. Guinevere had done nothing to deserve this kind of cruelty.

"I'm afraid so," he answered, looking deep into his friend's eyes and wishing, once again, that he could turn back time to spare her any more hurt.

She turned to Annis, desperation clear in every line of her body.

"Is this legal?" Her voice and posture held the quality of someone who was trapped.

Annis quickly scanned her copy of the will, anger radiating from her posture.

"It is," she said grimly. "I'm sorry Guinevere, but for now there is only one loophole I can see."

"What is it?"

_'Yes,'_ Arthur thought. _'What is it?'_

"You will need to live with Arthur in Tintagel," Annis said quickly, moving her hand to cover the younger woman who was visibly shaken by the news. "But that doesn't mean you have to do anything else you don't want to do."

She looked at Nimueh—whose expression was grim and had her eyes trained on Arthur—and then at Merlin. A silent understanding passed between both lawyers and Merlin gave a slight nod, as if knowing what Annis was about to say next.

"You will need to live in Tintagel to honor the first part of the will," her grip on Guinevere's hand tightened. "But I will do everything in my power to make sure your marriage is annuled in the shortest possible amount of time."

"We were married in a Catholic ceremony," Arthur spoke softly, not wanting to do any more damage than was already inflicted. "Petitioning the Church may take a long time..."

Nimueh's eyes narrowed and she spoke to Arthur.

"You can always get married, Pendragon," she bit out. "That way you get your heir, your estate, and permanently stay out of Ms. Leodegrance's life."

Blue eyes met grey and the anger between lawyer and tycoon was electric. Merlin cleared his throat to dispel the tension, sure that if fisticuffs were next to happen, gender be damned.

"Annis is right," Merlin said in a strong voice. "There is nothing we can do about the fact that you do have to reside in Tintagel, but, I do not condone you and Arthur...," he gestured vaguely in the air, indicating the embarrassing clause of the will.

"But, Guinevere, please understand that we do not want Tintagel to pass into the hands of Aggravaine as well. The conditions of this will have to remain a secret, limited only to the people inside this room. I cannot petition the court to strike out any of these conditions because that would make the will open to public scrutiny. Doing that exposes its contents to people who will want to use it to their advantage."

He looked at Guinevere then at Arthur, then he shifted his gaze to both lawyers who were still bristling with rage at how Uther's will took their friend and client as if she was a brood mare.

"I am begging you, Guinevere, please, live with Arthur in Tintagel and Annis, Nimueh, and I will do everything we can to expedite the annulment."

Merlin's desperate plea was left hanging in the air.

Guinevere looked at Annis. She saw the quiet plea in the older woman's face. Annis had become more than her lawyer, she had become her friend, the one she turned to when she had no one else to confide in. She looked at Nimueh, the young lawyer had become her sister in the years they had known each other. As much as she distrusted Arthur and Merlin, she believed that the two women would move heaven and earth to make sure that she was safe.

She took a deep breath and breached the subject no one seemed to want to address.

"What about Mithian?" She looked straight at Arthur as she spoke.

It was that moment where Arthur's heart broke. He thought he had no more pain to spare when it came to his ex-wife, but as she asked that question, everything that had happened in the past three years came flooding back. How he tried to find her when she seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth, how he had spent nearly a year half-drunk with trying to forget her, how he had clung to Mithian because she was as close to Guinevere as any woman he knew. How he was being cruel to her because she knew his reasons for staying and how she had never complained. And now, Guinevere—with Uther still trying to strike her down even in his death—was still thinking about other people. Arthur felt about two inches tall.

"Let me worry about Mithian," Arthur said with finality. He would explain to her somehow, make sure she would understand without going into detail. He would tell her that it was one of the many sick games his father concocted to control him and the people around him even as he lay rotting in the ground. He would explain to Mithian and then have her go on some extended vacation where she would not be able to witness this—his latest undoing.

Guinevere was, and always will be, his undoing. With all the pain they dealt each other, Arthur knew that he would be unable to love anyone but her.

Guinevere dropped her gaze and nodded, her eyes trained on the floor. She looked so broken, not like the feisty, fiery woman who had captured his heart.

_'What has the world done to you, Love?'_ Arthur wanted to ask. _'Please let me in again and I will slay your demons.'_

Annis and Merlin's tones broke him from his reverie.

"Arthur? Do you agree?" Merlin asked, impatience coloring his voice.

He turned to look at his lawyer and raised an eyebrow.

"To which part?" Arthur asked, hoping that he had phrased the question well enough that it would mask his distraction.

"We need you and Guinevere to agree that this has to happen at the soonest possible time," Merlin said, the bite in his tone impossible to ignore. "We need both of you to move into Tintagel within the next couple of days. It would shield both of you from public scrutiny—Tintagel's security would keep out prying eyes. It would also allow us to work on the annulment without the distraction of having both of you around."

Arthur nodded and looked to Guinevere. Her eyes were wide and her breaths were shallow—she was close to panicking and Arthur did what came naturally to him. He stood from his chair and closed the distance between him and his ex-wife. He stood behind her chair and put both hands on her shoulders. That she didn't flinch under his touch proved just how shaken she was; instead, one of her small hands touched his, her fingers seeking his out. It was something she did when she was frightened, Arthur remembered how his touch had been her buffer when things got too much for her to handle.

Unknown to her, the warmth of her hand comforted Arthur as well. She soothed him like no else was able to.

Their visible relaxation was not lost on the three lawyers. It should have warmed their hearts had they not known how much hurt Arthur could inflict upon Guinevere once again. But they took advantage of the present calmness that settled upon both to explain the plan of action. Guinevere and Arthur would quietly move into Tintagel, the press would be informed that both Mr. Pendragon and Ms. Leodegrance are still divorced although trying to work together amiably to accommodate the conditions of Uther Pendragon's will, and that, no, this does not mean they are reconciling.

When all was said and done, Arthur and Guinevere seemed to break out of the spell that their touch wove around each other. Guinevere turned and her eyes flew to Arthur's, his hands dropped from her shoulders and he backed away, mumbling an apology as he did.

Guinevere's head swam with what just happened. She and Arthur were going to be living under the same roof again in the guise of fulfilling the conditions of Uther Pendragon's will—one of which was to bear a child. Her hands reflexively dropped to her stomach.

_'No,'_ she thought. _'Arthur must never know. He will never know of the child that fate took away from me.'_


	13. Chapter 13

**-13-**

"Do you want to do this?"

Annis' calm voice broke through Guinevere's confused thoughts. She had spent most of two days sorting through her possessions and deciding which ones she needed to bring to Tintagel with her. It would have been laughable, really as Guinevere didn't have much in material possessions. Her two-bedroom flat didn't allow her to keep much, but between bouts of nervousness and phone calls to Nimueh and Annis, what would have been a simple task had stretched to two days worth of work.

She paused from folding clothes to be packed into a small suitcase.

"No," Guinevere whispered and sat on her bed. "The last thing I want is to be near Arthur."

She was wringing her hands, despite the facade if calmness, the action betrayed her nervousness.

"There's still time, Gwen," Annis said gently. "Give me the word and I will tell Merlin..."

"To stuff it where the sun don't shine," a watery laugh erupted from Guinevere. Annis had been incensed after they came back from Merlin's office.

"This makes me uncomfortable," the other woman said. And she spoke the truth; to have Guinevere be so close to the man who had hurt her so deeply was disturbing. He didn't doubt her friend's convictions, but she knew how much Guinevere still cared for Arthur.

_"And,"_ she thought to herself. _"If yesterday was anything to go by, it seems like he feels as strongly as he did for her all those years ago."_

"It has to be done, Annis," Guinevere said softly. "I hate being so close to Arthur; hate that Uther can hurt me even when he's dead, but if going through this means that I can rid myself of the lot of them forever, then I'll do it."

Annis saw Gwen's shoulders sag for the briefest of moments before the young woman squared them and raised her chin.

"I'll do anything to get my life back."

The lawyer saw Gwen's hand rest briefly on her abdomen. A self-comforting gesture she did when she needed to control her emotions. Then it hit her. Her being in Lancelot's care for the better part of three years, Elyan's hesitation about answering for his sister, her all-too obvious fragility, and the rage at Arthur. A divorced woman—even one as badly wronged as Guinevere—would not have simply disappeared only to be seen in the company of the man with whom she was accused of having an affair. Guinevere was far, far too smart—and too much in love with Arthur to even have looked at another man even after the end of her marriage. That, plus the way she laid her hand on her stomach in times of distress—people would not notice, but Annis did. And Annis understood.

"Does Arthur know about your miscarriage, Gwen?" Annis asked softly.

Guinevere's head whipped around and she looked at her friend. She had only spoken about her loss to two people: Elyan and Lancelot. She kept the details of the tragedy to herself, believing that the fewer people knew, the less chance Arthur or Merlin would ever hear of it.

"Did Lancelot tell you?" She asked shortly and Annis shook her head. "Elyan?"

Annis sighed.

"I am a mother, Gwen," she said in a quiet voice. "I raised two sons by myself after my husband died. But I lost a little girl before I had my boys."

Annis bowed her head, the memory of the lowest point in her life still striking painfully after all these years.

"I was too young and quite careless," Annis recalled. "A young, healthy woman with the world at her feet—what did I have to be afraid of? When Robert and I lost her, I'm afraid I came quite close to going mad."

She raised her head and looked at the young woman with suddenly tear-filled eyes.

"My fault, I kept telling myself. All of it was my fault. How could I have been so careless with my child?"

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips.

"Even young, healthy women are not exempt from it, I was told," Annis bowed her head again and gave a small sniff, willing her emotions in check. This time was for Guinevere, not a morbid trip down memory lane. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared," Guinevere said simply as she sat on a chair opposite Annis. "I found out a little bit too late: we were near the end of the divorce, almost close to getting the final verdict. And everyone was so...angry. I was afraid to tell you because I knew you would tell Merlin, and he would tell Arthur...and Arthur would just think that the baby was Lancelot's."

"You don't know that, Gwen," Annis put a hand on Gwen's small, trembling one.

"He called for a divorce instead of listening to me," Gwen said. "Do you think he would have thought otherwise?"

Annis couldn't answer. Arthur's rage was intimidating, she had to admit, and that, backed with Uther Pendragon's influence...she understood why Gwen chose not to fight.

"The divorce was stressful enough, and I knew that I had to be strong. I had to be calm for the baby."

"How did Lancelot find out?"

Guinevere laughed then. A soft one, but it heartened Annis to know that it was genuine. Guinevere had very little reasons to laugh as of late.

"The most stupid thing happened," she said as she took a tissue to dab at her eyes. "My first pre-natal check-up and I bumped into his sister at the doctor. Lancelot was there with her and it would have been foolish to deny anything at that point. Sofia was discreet, but Lancelot was livid."

Guinevere shook her head and she recalled that day.

"He asked if I was pregnant and I said yes—it seemed foolish to deny it. Why else would I be visiting an obstetrician?" A rueful smile bowed her lips. "He asked if Arthur knew and I said no and intended to keep it that way for a while—I was only about five weeks pregnant, and was afraid that the divorce would stress me too much..."

Guinevere broke off as her voice cracked. Annis sat there and listened, her wrath at Arthur Pendragon growing by the minute.

"I found out about a week into the divorce. Stupid timing, but what could I do? By the end of the second week, Arthur was seen with Mithian and barely made it to the mediations. Uther was slowly cutting me off from whatever joint accounts Arthur and I shared."

She turned pain-filled eyes to Annis.

"I actually began considering giving up your services, you know. I didn't know if I could continue to afford you."

She took a deep breath.

"But Lancelot," a small smile appeared on Guinevere's face. "He wouldn't hear of it. I suppose he felt guilt, that all of this came about because I was seen with him. He...took me in, I suppose is the way to describe it. Made sure that I attended the mediations, that I got the best medical care—he arranged for all of that because by the end of it all, I was left quite destitute."

An expletive meant for Uther Pendragon left Annis' lips and Guinevere's brow furrowed. Annis could see that she was keeping her emotions in check.

"I got the house," Guinevere said softly. "My home, but I had no choice but to sell it because I wanted to memory of Arthur left with me. I also had no means of income, and with a baby coming..." her voice trailed off again and Annis could imagine her fear at being unable to provide for her child.

She told the lawyer of leaving the sale of the house at the hands of the real estate agent who had showed it to them, asking that she not be contacted at any point except when the sale was final. He, too, understood her wishes and complied with them.

"Small blessings," Guinevere said with a barely disguised sniffle. "But I was grateful to at least be acquainted with people who understood."

"Why didn't you come to me, then?" Annis questioned softly. "Surely you knew I would protect your interests?"

"It was too soon," Guinevere explained. "I wanted to stay as far away as possible from the people involved in the divorce." A harsh laugh bubbled from her, causing Annis to look at the young woman.

"Arthur didn't care," she said, a trace of bitterness evident in her voice. "He was 'vacationing' with Mithian by then." She looked at Annis. "I was supposed to tell him about the baby, but I wanted to do it on my terms. After the divorce, when he had no hold on me anymore."

She wiped at her eyes.

"Foolish," she said softly, admonishing herself.

Guinevere took a deep breath and spoke again.

"Turns out, I would never have to," her hands returned to her stomach, performing the self-comforting gesture she did earlier. "I lost the baby a few days later. Elyan was with me when I started to cramp, I'm afraid I must have passed out from the pain at some point, because the next thing I knew, I was in a hospital and Elyan was with me."

Annis had no words. There is nothing you can say to a woman who has lost a child; no words can carry the comfort they so desperately need. Even she, who has gone through the same thing, could not find the right words to say. She had Robert, and for that she was forever grateful. Guinevere lost her husband, her marriage, her home—what relief could she give to someone who had lost nearly everything? How could one woman recover from all of that?

There were no words.

"I couldn't even name the baby," she whispered. "They never told me if it was a boy or a girl and I...I never asked. That would be like twisting the knife in deeper..."

She saw Guinevere bow her head as she relived the memory of three years ago. Annis knew that she was trying to suppress her sobs, but when a shudder passed through her and her shoulders shook, Annis crossed the space between them and enfolded the young woman in her arms.

Her anger at Arthur was still there, but at the same time, she felt and immense grief. That he was so blind to his wife's suffering—that she suffered to this day—Annis could only hope that he was prepared when the dam broke. He would drown in Guinevere's sorrow.


	14. Chapter 14

**-14-**

It took even less time to get Guinevere's things together for the move to Tintagel. She rather felt like a fragile doll that everyone kept tiptoeing around; Nimueh was far too enraged to trust herself to speak, Lancelot was silently seething about how she was once again ensnared in the Pendragon web.

Guinevere was left to do little labor. There was the packing of her clothes, of course, and all the little mementos she wanted to take with her: the photos of Elyan and her parents, her laptop, the few books she could never part with—little things, but ones that gave her most comfort.

She didn't trust herself to say much, either. What comfort could she give to her small circle of friends when they were so very careful not to say anything that would not make her feel any more trapped than she already was? There were touches and hugs, but nothing more than that.

Only Annis was calm through the entire thing. She directed movers about which things were to be kept in storage, decided which things should go in which rooms, signed legal documents, kept up with phone calls from Merlin (Nimueh was taken away from this duty because most calls ended up in shouting matches that could have escalated in lawsuits had Annis not intervened), and generally kept Guinevere together.

When the day to move in to Tintagel came, Guinevere decided that it was Annis who was to accompany her. She would be able to look over any legal details presented by Merlin ("It's logical that he should be there," she told Guinevere. "This is a clause in Uther's will, after all.), but more than that, she was the only person Guinevere could trust not to fall—or fly—apart when Arthur was near.

Annis was of the age where nothing could faze her, and she carried enough clout that she could stand toe-to-toe with anyone under Pendragon employ and still come out on top.

The drive to Tintagel was quiet. It was just Annis and herself in the car (they had refused both Nimueh and Lancelot's offer to drive behind them—Nimueh was sure to tear into Merlin as soon as she caught sight of him and Lancelot near Arthur would be nothing short of chaotic) and the journey was made in comfortable silence. Every so often they would turn to each other and smile, but conversation wasn't necessary. For that, Guinevere was thankful.

Soon enough, they were at Tintagel. Guinevere had been given the barest information about Ygraine Pendragon's childhood home; it was a large estate in the country, she was told. It was peaceful, removed from the city. It was where Uther retreated with his infant son after his beloved wife had died from complications after birthing Arthur.

Those words meant nothing to Guinevere. She had visited Camelot when she and Arthur were still going out, it was a large estate in the country as well, but it was cold and forbidding. It had belonged to Uther's family for as long as there had been Pendragons, but it was by no means a home. It had felt like a fortress, and even when she became a Pendragon by marriage, she could not shake the feeling that if Camelot had been a person, it would have shown her out with no excuse or apology.

But Tintagel was no Camelot.

It was made of stone, just like Uther's house, but it looked warm and inviting. There was life to Tintagel and it was easy for Guinevere to imagine why Uther chose to live here with his newborn son after the death of his wife. What little she knew about Ygraine was from stories Arthur knew from his father, but what she remembered was that Ygraine was kind, thoughtful, and talented.

Ygraine Clarent had been a rising star in the field of design. She had apprenticed under some prestigious names in fashion, but had chosen to make it on her own by establishing her own fabric designs. On the verge of making a splash, she had met Uther Pendragon and it was love at first sight. They had married a few months later and soon, she was pregnant with their first child.

But Ygraine's pregnancy was complicated and delicate. She had never recovered fully after giving birth and passed away when Arthur was only a few days old.

Tintagel was Ygraine's last gift to her son.

"It's beautiful," Guinevere said. "I understand why Agravaine was insistent on keeping it."

Annis spoke only after she had parked the car and turned off the engine.

"Are you still sure about this?"

Her voice had softened, somewhat, but the steely determination was still present in her eyes. Guinevere put her hand on top of Annis' before she spoke.

"We both know that this is the only way I can get them out of my life," Guinevere's voice was steady. "He's practically engaged to Mithian, anyway, and you have my assurance that I will sign anything that will guarantee my freedom from the Pendragon yoke."

Annis gave a rueful smile.

"Well, it's part yours now," her smile twisted when she saw Guinevere's slight grimace. "It's just a technicality, Guinevere. Merlin, Nimueh, and I will work on getting you out of this situation..."

Guinevere nodded. The conversation in Merlin's office still rang clearly in her mind. Only an annulment or Arthur getting married would sever her ties to the Pendragon world.

_'Simple enough,'_ she thought. _'I'm sure Mithian is itching to get a ring on her finger.'_

"...We're working on the annulment," Annis' voice broke Guinevere's reverie. "But it might take some time, you and Arthur were married in church...it could get complicated."

"I'll jump through rings of fire if it means getting it done."

Guinevere looked at her attorney and was pleased to see that she the serious expression she reserved for particularly vexing cases was present.

It was a short walk from the car to the front door of the manor. And Guinevere couldn't help but smile at the sight of flowers in the large stone planters that decorated the path that led up to the door. One knock and it was opened by Geoffrey, the Pendragon butler for as long as Guinevere could remember.

"Ms. Guinevere," the older man's face creased as he smiled and Guinevere beamed back at him.

"Geoffrey," she said as she moved forward to place a light kiss on his cheek. Geoffrey had always been kind to her, often warning her if Uther was being particularly difficult so she could avoid him.

"Let me show you to your room, Miss," Geoffrey said after Guinevere introduced him to Annis who seemed just as charmed by him.

Geoffrey led them up a grand staircase and ushered Guinevere and Annis into one of the rooms on the upper floor. Heavy wood doors opened into the most beautiful suite Guinevere had ever seen.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a garden that looked like a watercolor painting. The walls were a pale yellow, making the bedroom look light and inviting. A vanity table, bookshelves, and a lady's desk and chair flanked the walls. The furniture was simple, but lovely; elegant but understated.

The bed was the focal point of the room and it took Guinevere's breath away. It was large, of course, it's size set to complement the space of the room, but it's lines—the way it was built—that made it so beautiful. Each of the four posters was carved with small flowers, just a few, but so exquisitely detailed that she was close to wondering what they smelled like.

Guinevere moved across the room, running her hand along the surface of the desk before standing in front of the windows. For all her tension, the view outside calmed her down. Flowerbeds were in full bloom and the riot of colors soon had her smiling.

She was vaguely aware of Annis telling her that she was going outside to make a call, but soon, she was alone in the room. Taking in the view and lost in her thoughts, Guinevere didn't realize that she had been joined by another person.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Guinevere turned and saw Mithian just as she came into the room. The other woman was dressed elegantly: a sundress that showed off her slim figure and in a shade that highlighted the porcelain quality of her complexion. Old insecurities came up and, once again, Guinevere, in her jeans and cotton blouse, felt dowdy.

"This was Ygraine's room, you know," Mithian continued as she walked closer to Guinevere.

Mithian seemed to notice Guinevere's uneasiness stopped just as she was in the middle of the room. Guinevere was quite in awe of her calmness, as she was a wreck underneath her sudden inability to speak.

"Arthur wanted you to stay in this room," she said quietly.

Guinevere frowned.

Arthur wanted her to stay in this room? His mother's room?

"Why?" She asked. It seemed the only logical response.

Mithian moved her shoulders in a delicate shrug.

"It's the most beautiful room in the house," she replied, with a small smile. "It's only fitting that you should have it."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Guinevere said softly. This was all too confusing.

Mithian was mindful of the distance between her and Guinevere as she moved closer. She folded her hands in front of her and looked the other woman in the eye before speaking.

"You must not think too much of me," she began in a soft and perfectly calm tone. "After all, what woman encourages a relationship with a man who is yet to be divorced from his wife?"

Mithian's admission stunned Guinevere but the other woman continued to speak.

"I never once believed that you would betray Arthur," the smallest smile bowed her lips. "The few times I saw you together...the love between you was almost a tangible thing."

She frowned then, her smooth brow furrowed with concern.

"Guinevere, I harbor no illusions about Arthur loving me."

Mithian's tone was plain; no emotion was betrayed as she spoke the words.

"Just as I am not in love with him," she looked Guinevere in the eye again. "His heart will only ever belong to you. No matter how much he tries to hide it, and no matter what...hurt may be between the two of you, Arthur will love only you."

The same wistful smile was on her lips again.

"Just you."

Guinevere would have been flattered, but this conversation was strange.

"Then why are you with Arthur if you don't love him?"

Mithian looked down and when her eyes met Guinevere's again, it shone with a different light.

"I am my father's daughter," her tone was steely this time and Guinevere saw the haughty socialite beneath the veneer of gentility and calm. "And that means that I am to take over his post once he retires. However, not everyone on the board of Pendragon Holdings feels that I have enough experience to do so."

Mithian made a sound that mocked that judgement.

"It isn't enough that I learned about business at my father's knee, or that I graduated at the top of my class . I am Roder Nemeth's daughter," Mithian made the word sound like an insult. "Not Roder Nemeth's son. I am made unsuitable by virtue of my gender."

The truth dawned on Guinevere.

"But being with Arthur guarantees your foothold in the company," she said calmly. "No one would dare say no to Mrs. Arthur Pendragon."

A wry smile twisted Mithian's lips.

"Precisely," she said. "I don't play with emotions, Guinevere, but I do play politics. I do not hate you, in fact, I admire your strength. You stood up to both Uther and Arthur; they will never admit it, but your presence brought them to their knees and you never even realized that you drew first blood."

Mithian drew a breath.

"Arthur defied his father for you," she continued. "And Uther...well, he never expected his son would actually go against everything patently Pendragon."

A beat passed between the two women.

"I don't want Arthur back," Guinevere said, breaking the silence.

"That's obvious," Mithian agreed. "But it isn't all about what you want, Guinevere. I'm not sure Arthur feels the same way."

The steely tone was back in Mithian's voice.

"I've come too far up the ladder to let it all go to waste," Mithian said calmly. "If you think I'm just going to fade into the background because Arthur still loves you, you're wrong."

Guinevere's chin rose. She was not going to be a pawn in these people's sick games. They had taken too much from her already.

"You should talk to Arthur, Mithian, and not me," she said coldly. "After all, didn't you just say that he was the one still harboring feelings?"

Mithian's expression froze and a heartbeat later, she turned on her heel and walked out the door.

The fight out of her, Guinevere made her way to the bed and sat on it. Two against one—five, if Merlin, Morgana, and Agravaine were going to be involved. And the battle was going to happen in a place where they all had the upper hand.


End file.
